


Albion's Feathers

by Chechilia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chechilia/pseuds/Chechilia
Summary: Arthur falls asleep in a store selling mattresses. Merlin, one of the employees, has to wake him up.





	Albion's Feathers

Arthur was flying.

Way below him, the ground was undulating in a flurry of colors, earthy browns and forest greens and subdued yellows melting into each, the occasional patch of flowers catching his gaze as surely as a flame would a moth.

He batted his wings, gaining speed, until he was moving too fast for the colors to register in any other way than in a daze : blurry but sweet, full of promises but hidden from his sight. The wind in his feathers was cold but soft, like the surface of an iced lake, and caressed him with the touch of a lover - wanted and welcome.

He was like a king surveying his land, he thought, master of an earth he could shape at his will. The winds obeyed him, he noted, as did the grass on the ground and the trees in the forests. He could even change the course of the sun itself if he so pleased.

A heady feeling washed over him. As far as he could see, the earth was void of mankind, empty of the cages and chains created by the human mind. There were no rules, no responsibilities, no expectations. The freedom he was experiencing while flying was absolute.

Answering Arthur's sudden command, the wind grew stronger, forcing him to stretch his muscles in an effort to fight the ascending current. Pride flowed him at being able to resist nature, and his exhilaration grew as he witnessed his own strength and power.

Arthur was flying. The fact was surprising in itself, for the very simple reason that Arthur, mere human that he was, didn't have wings. But the mind works mysterious ways, and one does not question reality when one is dreaming.

And that's why, despite the disapproving voice nagging at the back of his mind, Arthur surrendered himself to slumber.

***

Arthur was pulled out of his dream by a soft voice murmuring in his ear.

The voice was more rough than soft, actually, and certainly wasn't murmuring. Growing insistent, it shattered the illusion of Arthur's dream, creating tiny million pieces he tried to cling to with all his might. He didn't want to wake up just yet, way too comfortable to try to move. All his muscles were loose, as if he'd just taken an amazingly hot shower. Or drank a steaming cup of tea. Or experienced the best orgasm of his life.

Or all three at once.

The tight knots in his back were gone, as was the beginning of a headache that had been forming at his nape. His breathing was even, his heart beating steadily, and he felt more relaxed that he had in a very long time.

Perhaps ever.

He sniffled, cursing his already fading dream. His roommate could go to hell, he wouldn't give him the pleasure of waking up.

" Sorry, sir ? "

The voice was talking again, more forceful, and this time Arthur's brain registered the difference. The words were repeated several times, each louder than the last, and Arthur groaned as the last remnants of his dream vanished in his mind.

“ Sh'up “ he mumbled mournfully. “ M'sleep'ng. “

A curious chuckle resonated in his ear, grating on his nerves, and he half thought about getting up for the sole pleasure of throttling Gwaine. As soon as the idea crossed his mind, however, he dismissed it : the reward would definitely not be worth the trouble, his energy was lacking, and most of all waking up would grant his roommate the victory.

And he couldn't allow that.

Ignoring the unrelenting voice, Arthur turned away, burrowing his head further into the pillow.

“ Sir ? Sir ! “

Suddenly a hand was clamping down on Arthur's shoulder, long fingers tightening as they shook him vigorously :

" Please, sir ! "

" G'way " Arthur managed tiredly, his mouth feeling as if it was filled with mashed potatoes. “ M'trying sleep, y'b'stard'. "

A sudden laugh broke the heavy silence, sounding so very far away that Arthur thought he'd dreamed it. The voice in his ear turned chiding :

“ This isn't funny, Will ! “ it hissed.

Weird, Arthur thought. Gwaine didn't have any friend named Will. Besides, he'd always been careful not to wake Arthur up from his – quite frequent – naps when he had people over, claiming that Arthur was so cute when he was asleep that it granted him points of sympathy from the ladies he wanted to chat up.

The only time he had tried had been under the pretense of preventing Arthur from embarrassing himself, as he was snoring rather obnoxiously on the couch. That, of course, had been pure lies : Arthur didn't snore (he did _not_ ).

Arthur had his suspicions about the event, and suspected it had been to amuse Gwaine's boyfriend at the time - his roommate had also claimed that Arthur was adorable when he was grumpy, which he was not, as he had proved by getting his revenge the very same night, throwing a bucket of iced water at the sleeping couple. Needless to say, Gwaine's boyfriend hadn't appreciated the attention, and had disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

And from then on, every time he wasn't alone, Gwaine had let Arthur sleep.

“ Sir, if you could please wake up, I'd rather not have to slap you. “

The voice had become oddly serious, but then the hearty laugh resonating nearby ruined the attempted effect by prompting Arthur to discard it as another of Gwaine's tricks :

“ Y'won't d're “ he grumbled. “ L've me 'lone. 'm comf'rt'ble. “

“ I think that is fairly obvious, sir, and the staff is absolutely delighted to find its current products to your tastes. “

There was a short pause, as if for emphasis – or for making sure Arthur wasn't going to fall asleep again (shut up, he still wasn't awake anyway) – and it was enough for Arthur to belatedly register the hint of Welsh accent in the man's voice. The realization made him frown : Gwaine, for all that he claimed being born in Wales, was actually Irish, and certainly never had a Welsh accent.

" However, sir “ and Arthur suddenly knew that whoever was talking was smirking, “ we would appreciate if you would stop drooling on our pillows. They're hard to clean and quite expensive . "

Strangely enough, it was the word “expensive” that lit the light bulb in Arthur's mind. Nothing was ever expensive to Gwaine – not because he had money (he'd left his trust fund untouched after a heated shouting match with his father), but because _Arthur_ had, and as one of Arthur's closest friends, he considered himself entitled to borrow as much as he wanted from his bank account – and to never return it.

Finally awake (or the closest he could be from it at the time), Arthur groggily opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the lights – and when the hell did Gwaine change the ones in their living room to white neons ?! As he turned on his back, the light streaming down from the roof framed a man's figure. The was latter bent over Arthur, supporting his weight on one hand, smirking down at him while his other hand was still on Arthur's shoulder.

The first things Arthur noticed as the man's features became apparent were the cheekbones. High and prominent, they looked so impossibly sharp that Arthur wanted to touch them to see if he would effectively cut himself on them. He swallowed reflexively as his eyes fell on the man's mouth. The sinfully red lips were curved in a perfect bow, full and soft and so very kissable that Arthur did a double take.

But it's when he became well enough adjusted to the light that his questing gaze found the other man's eyes, and only then Arthur knew that he was a goner. Never in his life had he seen a color so beautiful : the irises were blue, clear like the most clean cut sapphires, bright and deep like ocean waves. Currently sparkling with amusement – or was there actual specks of gold around the pupils ? - they were trailed on Arthur's face, and the man's smirk morphed into a beaming smile when he noticed that Arthur was awake :

" There we go ! " he exclaimed, cheeks dimpling. " I've been trying to wake you up for a solid ten minutes. You're quite the heavy sleeper, I must say. "

Damn it if Arthur didn't find the man _adorable_. Without thinking – one could argue that his mind was still foggy with sleep, which would explain his action – he raised a hand to the man's face to delicately brush a finger against one cheekbone, distantly noting that they didn't cut his skin :

“ Beautiful “ he whispered, something akin to reverence in his appreciation.

There was a silence that lasted a heartbeat, and loud guffaws permeated the air as the man's alabaster skin flushed red at the word :

“ Erm, thank you ? “ he replied uncertainly, cheeks flaming.

The laughter doubled somewhere in the distance, its echo disturbing enough for Arthur's brow to pinch in confusion :

“ You're not Gwaine “ he stated dumbly.

“ I'm decidedly not “ the man confirmed, still smiling. “ Who's Gwaine ? “

Only then Arthur noticed that his fingers were still trailing on the man's skin, and he abruptly let his hand drop, rubbing his own face in an effort to dispel his sleepiness :

“ My roommate “ he answered grudgingly. “ My annoying, I-wake-you-up-during-naps, and hey-I'm-moving-out-good-luck-to-find-another-flat roommate. Whom I'm going to kill as soon as I can, because...”

He trailed off, the words he just uttered looping joyfully in his sleep addled brain. _My hey-I'm-moving-out-good-luck-to-find-another-flat roommate_. Why were those words so important ? Arthur frowned, narrowing his eyes at the other man.

He idly remembered that Gwaine had decided not two weeks ago to squander his father's allowance (they'd finally talked and made up) into a worldwide trip, and was currently dancing in the Rio Carnival for the next few days, before hoping on a flight to Japan – he'd claimed that the food was worth knowing, and had added a few comments about the local population that had Arthur smack him upside the head on principle.

Cherry on top of the cake, a misunderstanding with the landlord had led to Arthur being evicted. Finding himself in need of a new home to live in within the week had been quite difficult – not because money had been a problem (Arthur's last name wasn't Pendragon for nothing), but because finding a flat available on such a short notice had been.

In the end, a quick word to a kind old lady and the promise of a generous tip had paid off, providing him with the apartment he wanted – not luxurious or anything, but it was a place he felt he could live in. The only downside of the deal had been the emptiness of the flat, which had been void of absolutely all furniture, including a place to sit, a fridge, a functioning shower, and most of all a bed.

The fridge hadn't truly bothered him – he could always order takeaway – and neither did the shower, as he could still use the ones at his office (no one would dare call him on it). But living without a decent bed was an absolute no-no. He didn't care that some might call him a spoiled arse : he'd tried several times to sleep in a normal bed, and had always ended up complaining in some way.

Which was the exact reason Arthur had driven downtown, in search of what he would call a “perfect mattress”. Which he was actually convinced didn't exist – and was wrong about.

Suddenly realizing where he was, Arthur sprang up on his knees, startling the other man, who stumbled backward and nearly fell on his arse. Tall and lean, dark locks curling around overly large – and oddly endearing – ears, the man truly was beautiful, but the fact wasn't really the most important thing at the moment.

Sparing a thought for his foiled dignity – Arthur knew his hair must be messed up and was certain that he had a bright red mark on his cheek left by an angry pillow - the blond scanned the other man's chest. Sure enough, his gaze fell on the small nametag, underlined by a golden feather.

Ignoring the other man, who hadn't stopped laughing, wheezing between every squeal, Arthur groaned :

“ Fuck “ he cursed, voice rough from misuse.

Albion's Feathers had the reputation of selling the best mattresses in all country. The store had a wide variety of clientele, from young broke students to rich business men, and provided all kind of products related to one's bedroom.

Visiting the store, Arthur had tried one of the mattresses - action that was accepted if done perfunctorily - marveling a its softness.

And had promptly fallen asleep on it.

Arthur cleared his throat, flushing with embarrassment :

“ I am so very sorry for the inconvenience “ he apologized, addressing the store's employee that had woken him up. “ I just wanted...”

He sighed, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He knew he didn't have any plausible excuse : the mattress had been perfect, and he'd slept on it. End of the story.

“ How long was I asleep ? “ he asked instead, his blue eyes finding the employee's.

“ A while “ the man answered with a soft smile. “ I let you sleep a bit. You looked like you needed it. “

Which was kind of true – but the man didn't really need to know that.

“ Tough week “ he explained anyway, surprising himself. “ I don't think I've slept that well in...well, ever. “

“ That's sad “ the other man stated, eyes crinkling in amusement. “ I'm not sure if I should blame your former mattress or your former hook-ups. “

He cocked his head to the side, a thoughtful expression on his face :

“ Maybe both. “

“ I bought my former mattress here, so it would be quite unprofessional of you to blame it, “ Arthur noted, the beginning of a smirk curling on his lips. “ As to my hook-ups...”

He checked out the man's body with unmistakable interest, drinking in the sharp lines and abrupt angles, taking a chance :

“ Think you can do better ? “

The man's eyebrows flicked up all the way to his hairline, blue eyes sparkling :

“ Why, you offering ? “

Arthur was about to answer the challenge in his voice when another chimed in :

“ Oh no, no way ! “

The other man finally entered Arthur's line of sight. Rather small next to his coworker, but bulkier, he had brownish hair and curious brown eyes. He pointed a threatening finger at the brunet and berated him with such familiarity that Arthur knew they must be friends rather than coworkers :

“ You are _not_ getting a shag out of it ! You play the good Samaritan with a posh prat...”

“ Oï ! “

“ And you think I'm going to let you join him ? I stayed late to help with your section, I even played radar for you in case the boss came and saw you letting a frigging customer sleep on a mattress, and this is how you thank me ? Geez, last time I let a bird do this she nearly knocked me out with her purse because the mattress wasn't soft enough for her tastes ! “

His voice then turned to an awful high-pitched squeal :

“ _This bed hurt my back terribly, and oh my god, is that a grain of sand on the bedspring ?_ She thought she was a fairytale princess or what ? “

The brunet barely managed to contain his laughter at Arthur's bemused expression :

“ Princesses do not sleep with pigs “ he retorted with a wide grin, “ so that explains her reaction. "

“ Don't you dare...”

“ Besides “ he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, stressing the word ominously, “ I happen to remember that you left your dishes in the sink – and _I am not_ cleaning up for you. “

The brown-haired man grumbled, and Arthur knew he'd been right – they were definitely friends, and apparently roommates too : the argument sounded just like the ones Arthur and Gwaine used to have.

The brunet sighed, and threw Arthur a speculative glance :

“ Tell you what “ he said, “ I give you my bonus on this one and we're even. “

The other snorted :

“ Like hell ! " he protested. " You're not even sure he's going to buy it, it doesn't count. “

The brunet raised an eyebrow at Arthur, who sighed, making a waving motion with his hand. At the brown-haired man inquisitive glare, he added :

“ Yeah, yeah, I'll take it. “

It was the least he could do, after having slept – he glanced at his watch and cursed darkly – three hours in one of their beds. Besides, he would have bought it anyway, if only to sleep as well once again.

“ Brilliant ! ” the brunet exclaimed. “ You go, then ? “

His friend nodded grudgingly, throwing a last glance at Arthur. Yawning as obnoxiously as he could, just to piss him off, Arthur stood up and stretched his muscles, not missing the brunet's appreciative glance. Arthur had always known he was gorgeous – people told him often enough, and if he was fit, it was because he worked for it, dammit – but the brunet's eyes had an odd quality to them, searing hot without being lewd, curious in a way, and shining with a hidden softness that made Arthur want to ask him out on the spot rather than take him home already.

Once the other man was out of earshot, he smiled sheepishly :

“ I'm sorry again “ he said, “ I really didn't mean to fall asleep. “

“ It's alright “ the brunet replied, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “ It happens. Besides, I did win something out of the deal, after all. “

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. He presented him a hand :

“ I'm Arthur “ he said simply.

His last name could wait, as he didn't know what the brunet would do if he learned that Arthur was the heir of one of the country's richest companies. The man's smile only widened, however, dimpling his cheeks :

“ Merlin “ he answered, the delicious Welsh accent coloring his tone, giving his voice a particular quality – rich and warm.

Arthur snorted as he regretfully let go of the brunet's hand. His reaction prompted a glare from the other man :

“ Go ahead “ he hissed, jaw clenching. “ It's not like I've heard them all before. No, I am not a mage, no, I won't grow a beard, and no, I definitely don't parade around with pointed hats. Happy ? “

At the sudden change of tone, Arthur had understood that he had touched a sore point. Yet he couldn't help himself at the answer : he threw his head back and laughed.

“ I definitely don't see what's so funny “ Merlin said, voice a bit straining, leaning toward cold rather than friendly.

“ I'm sorry “ Arthur replied, wiping his eyes. “ I didn't think...Well, it's just, your name's Merlin, and your work at Albion's Feathers. “

“ So ? “

“ Merlin is also a bird's name, I think ? “

He'd turned sheepish under the other man's glare, but Merlin's eyes suddenly lit up at his answer :

“ Yeah, it is “ he said.

He smiled, looking thoughtful for a second, then graced Arthur with a toothy grin :

“ Though I admit, it's the first time I hear this one. “

Arthur shrugged :

“ My mother used to love birds “ he explained. " She taught me a few things when I was little, and later I read all the books we had in the house. "

He didn't mention that his mother had died when he was young. The subject would come up soon enough.

Merlin was prevented from having to answer by the return of his friend. The latter had readied the papers and prepared the mattress in stock for home delivery, so they only had to let Arthur pay, which he did without bothering to look at the price, the color of his card prompting a whistle from Merlin's friend.

Once the transaction was completed, the man – Will, as his nametag stated – waved them goodbye :

“ I'll leave you to it, then “ he said.

Then, as if an afterthought, he added :

" By the way, Merlin ? I'm totally asking Freya for the surveillance tapes. "

Merlin groaned as his friend disappeared into another aisle, cursing under his breath.

" I'm never going to live this down " he moaned.

Arthur chuckled. Silence fell between them, but before it could become awkward, Arthur took out a notebook from his pocket and tore a single page, using his company's pen to write down his number. Uncertain for the first time since he woke up, he glanced at Merlin :

“ I know a very good Thaï not too far from my new flat “ he stated, if a bit hesitantly. “ If you'd like to grab a bite, well, before...? “

Merlin studied him for a second before his blinding smile robbed Arthur of what was left of his sanity :

“ I'd love to “ he answered.

***

That very same night, Arthur would fall asleep in his new bed, thoroughly sated after a genuinely enjoyable dinner at the Thaï restaurant, the latter followed by several rounds of mind-blowing sex.

As it turned out, the mattress would keep his promises, leading Arthur to believe that there was no better way to sleep than on it. He would be proved wrong, however, because Merlin too would keep his own promises.

Regardless, it's only a few months later, after Merlin would move in with him, that he'd realize that the best way to sleep was definitely in his boyfriend's arms.

With or without the perfect mattress.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick something I wrote after picking a Tumblr prompt somewhere :
> 
> " I fell asleep at a mattress store by accident and you work here so you had to wake me up which is SUPER EMBARRASSING - even, though you say it happens all the time - because you're really cute. "  
> I absolutely can't remember where I found it, though, so don't hesitate to tell me in the comments if it's yours !
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoyed it !


End file.
